Dare
by marcallie
Summary: Takes place after Truth or Dare: Does Reid dare to face the truth?


**Author's Note: SPOILER ALERT - This takes place right after Season 14 episode 15 **_**Truth or Dare.**_ **I own no rights to **_**Criminal Minds**_ **or its characters, so I have no idea where they're going with this.**

Spencer Reid unlocked the door and entered his apartment without really noticing what he was doing. Once inside, he removed his suit jacket and loosened the bow tie, letting it hang around his neck. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain he realized that he had no clear recollection of the ride Luke had given him home, despite the fact that he had only drunk water at the reception and should have been completely clear-headed. On auto-pilot he went into the bathroom, stripping off his suit and stepping into the shower, letting the hot water pound over his head, half-convincing himself that it was the only water running down his face. When the shower ran cold he stepped out, dried himself off, and pulled on the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He walked into his bedroom and put on his purple flannel pajamas, and then he stood looking at his bed for long moments. It was late, and it had been an eventful few days, but he knew he was not going to be falling asleep any time soon. He had spent too many sleepless nights lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing for oblivion; he had no desire to do so again tonight. He went back out to the living room and poured the glass of Scotch he had denied himself after the wedding. Now it didn't matter if he lost control; there was no one there to see.

Despite his intentions, Reid did not get drunk. He sipped the Scotch slowly, sitting on the couch and contemplating his bookshelves. Thirty-seven years old, and what did he have to show for it? A bunch of degrees, the same ones he had earned before he turned twenty-five, plus only one more. A prison sentence, overturned but still very much a part of his life. Two-hundred sixty-seven Unsubs caught, an unknown number of lives saved, what could be a known number of lives lost, but he deliberately chose not to keep count. And no family. That's what he kept coming back to. He had a father, technically, and a mother who recognized him less and less. He had his work family, his team, but what did that mean really? At least in the beginning they had been mostly a group of single people. Hotch had been married, and then he wasn't. Gideon and Rossi were divorced before Reid ever knew them. But now, more of the team was partnered than wasn't. And the ones who weren't had been at one point, or could be so easily in the future. Only he was alone, always, perpetually alone.

Reid deliberately shook his head hard. He needed to stop. Spiraling down into despair was not going to help his situation. _Think about positive things_, he told himself. He had three godsons who loved him. But that thought only made him feel worse, if that were possible. If he had said something all those years ago, maybe Henry and Michael could have been his real sons instead of his godsons. Maybe he could have had . . . .

Abruptly Reid threw his glass of Scotch against the far wall. Instead of breaking, the glass bounced off the overstuffed bookcase and fell to the floor. Rather than a show of anger, the action was an attempt to break himself out of the stupor he was in. He needed to get his mind off of JJ's words, off of all the might-have-beens that had been circling for the past three days. He needed to do something. No, he needed to talk to someone. If there was one thing his sponsor and his teammates had tried to drill into him over the years, it was that keeping everything inside invariably led to disaster.

He got off the couch and crossed to the chair beside the door where he had thrown his jacket earlier. Searching the pockets, he found his cell phone and had the screen unlocked before he realized he didn't know who to call. JJ would normally be his first choice, his closest confidant, but she was obviously not an option. Garcia and Emily were equally nonviable; he could never tell them what JJ had said. Tara, Luke and Matt were good people, good friends and teammates, but they weren't close enough for something like this. He briefly considered calling Rossi. Dave had seen the ups and down of his and JJ's relationship over the years, and he could certainly commiserate with confused feelings of love. Rossi was the closest thing Reid had to a father any more, but Dave and Krystall were on their honeymoon. Now was not the time, no matter how much Reid might want to talk to him.

Hotch would understand. He had never stopped loving Hayley; he knew what it was like to love someone you couldn't have. And Hayley had loved him too, Reid was sure of it. But Hotch had drifted away from the BAU after he'd left, and even when his Witness Protection had ended, they'd never really reconnected. Reid had thought Hotch might show up when he was in jail, offer to act as his lawyer even, but Hotch had never come, and Reid had never asked. When someone left the team there were always big plans to stay in touch, but they never seemed to follow through. They'd get together a few times because they wanted to, and then a few times because they felt like they should, and then people would be busy with other things, or a case would come up, and gradually the relationship would just fall away. Reid wasn't going to call Hotch or Blake or Kate, even though all their numbers were still in his phone. They hadn't even come to Rossi's wedding; to be honest, Reid wasn't sure if they'd been invited.

And that led him to the one former teammate who he could call, the one he still spoke to at least once a week, the one who was the closest thing Reid had to a brother. Reid looked at the time on his phone. It was 11:17 p.m. here in D.C., which meant it was 10:17 in Chicago. Reid knew Morgan was at home, because they had discussed how much Morgan wanted to come to the wedding but couldn't because Hank had a cold and Savannah was working, so there just hadn't been any way for Morgan to leave long enough to fly to D.C. Normally Reid wouldn't call after nine at night just as a courtesy, but this felt like exigent circumstances. Morgan might mind if Reid woke him up, but he'd still answer, because that's what real friends do.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Reid pushed the 2 on his speed dial. (Garcia had programmed herself as 1 before she ever gave him the phone, and he'd never changed it). He wandered back to sit on the couch again, listening to the distant ring of the phone and wondering how to start this conversation. Small talk seemed, well, small, given the circumstances, but simply blurting out the events of the past few days felt too abrupt, too shocking. He decided to let Morgan lead the conversation when he heard the pickup on the other end. But the voice that came through air wasn't his former partner's. "Hi, Spencer, it's Savannah."

For a moment the stammer that had plagued Reid for years during moments of stress threatened to tie his tongue in knots, but he cleared his throat and took a deep breath, allowing his mouth time to catch up with his racing brain (_a technique Morgan taught me, _he thought before he spoke). "Hi, Savannah. I thought you'd be at work. I was looking for Derek." _Of course you were, you idiot, you called his cell phone._

Savannah didn't seem to find his comment idiotic. "I just came in a few minutes ago. Derek's got Hank in the shower; this cold has him croupy, and it's the only place he seems to be able to breathe. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No! No, that's okay. He's dealing with Hank. It's nothing important. I can call back tomorrow."

"He'll probably be out in just a few minutes anyway. If you can stand talking to me for a bit, he and I can trade off when he comes out."

"Oh. Uh, sure. I mean, that'd be great. Thanks."

"So I guess you were calling to tell Derek about Rossi's wedding."

Dave and Krystall's wedding was actually the furthest thing from Reid's mind, but he took the inadvertent lifeline. "Yes, I know he hated to miss it."

"He did. I was sorry to keep him away, but between work and a cranky toddler . . . ."

"Oh, everyone understood. You shouldn't feel bad."

"Still, a Dave Rossi wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"Well, except for Dave. It's his fourth time in a lifetime."

Savannah laughed delightedly. "That is a point. So, tell me all about it. What did everyone wear, who danced with whom, what were the vows like?"

If there was one thing Spencer Reid could do, it was recite all the details of an event he had witnessed. For the next ten minutes he described every moment, repeating the vows word for word and recounting everyone's clothing including hair and makeup choices of the ladies. Savannah made occasional encouraging noises, acknowledging his descriptions and assuring him of her continued interest. Not that Reid needed encouraging; once he got started, his memory functioned like a video camera, and only a deliberate attempt to cut him off would stop his litany.

Finally, after Reid had replayed Johnny Mathis's and Emily's speeches, Savannah interrupted. "Thanks, Spencer, that was almost as good as being there. I just heard the shower shut off. Give me a minute and I'll go put Hank back to bed and hand Derek the phone."

"Wait!" Reid demanded, more vehemently than he intended. "Um, I mean, can I ask you a question, Savannah? As a woman?"

Savannah sounded vaguely perplexed. "Sure, Spencer. What's up?"

"Do you . . . I mean . . . ." Reid took a deep breath and tried again, "Do you think a woman can love more than one man?"

"Well, yes, I think so. A husband dies, time passes, it's certainly possible for a woman to fall in love again. Why do you ask?"

"No, not like that. That wasn't . . . never mind. It's not important."

"Spencer? What's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing's going on. I just . . . is Derek free yet?"

"Sure. I'll get him."

Reid muttered, "Thanks," but it was to empty air; she had already put the phone down and walked away. While he waited for Morgan to pick up, Reid starting humming some of Johnny Mathis's songs which had played at the reception.

"Pretty boy," he heard from the other end, "what's that your humming?"

"Oh, uh, I don't remember," Reid lied as he realized he was humming _Friends in Love_.

"Really?" Morgan answered dryly. "Just how much did you drink tonight?"

Reid stammered, "I didn't. Drink. Alcohol, anyway. I drank water, and I had a few sips when I got home, but I really didn't . . . ."

Morgan laughed. "Reid. Chill. I don't care how much you drank, or if you drank. What's up with you?"

Reid hadn't been sure he'd be able to tell Morgan, had figured he'd probably hem and haw around and hang up without ever actually sharing any information. But now he found himself telling his best friend everything. He recited the same way he'd told Savannah about the wedding, straight facts and details, no thoughts or emotions. He began at the beginning of the case, explained how they'd determined who their unsub was and how he was using the people he blamed for his incarceration in his own game of Truth or Dare. He described how he and JJ had chased Judge Hamilton and Casey Pinkner into the jewelry store, how the judge had helped overpower and bind them, and JJ's offer to play Truth or Dare in her place. He told about the truths JJ had admitted, how her claim not to have enjoyed shooting people had nearly earned him a bullet in the head, and finally, finally, about the ultimate truth she had revealed. "She said, 'Spence, I've always loved you. I was afraid to say it before. And things are really too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry. But you should know.' And Pinkner said, "Goddamn. That's what I'm talking about. Now those are some last words right there. But it's not good enough to save your life.' He was about to shoot her, and that's when the piece of mirror finally cut through the tape, and I got my backup piece out of my ankle holster and I killed him."

Reid had said all of this dispassionately, as if describing a movie, but now he started shaking uncontrollably in a way he had not at the time. He barely managed to push the speaker button on his phone and drop it onto the coffee table before he lost the ability to hold it any longer.

There was a long moment of silence on both ends of the line. Finally Morgan spoke. "So what happened next?"

"Um, the rest of the team came in, and they called for an ambulance . . . ."

Morgan cut him off. "Not with the case. What happened with JJ?"

"Nothing. We finished up and flew home. And then I didn't see her again until the wedding."

"And?"

"And she was there with Will." Reid didn't even try to stop the sobs this time. He wrapped his arms around his shaking body and lay down on the sofa, pulling his legs up as tightly as he could, trying to hold himself together. "Oh, God, Morgan, what am I supposed to do?"

"You mean you didn't even tell her how you feel? Morgan demanded.

Reid shook his head miserably, even though his former partner couldn't see him. "I don't know how I feel."

"Come on, pretty boy, that's ridiculous. You've been in love with JJ as long as I've known you."

"Oh, that. I know that."

Morgan heaved a sigh. "Okay, I'm a little lost here. Did you and she talk at all?"

"Yes. A little. At the reception."

"Well, what did you say?"

"She thanked me for saving her life. And I asked if she was okay, and she said yes. And then she said she said what she did because she needed to get Pinkner's attention, and she needed to get my attention."

"Did she say she didn't mean it?"

"No."

"Did she say she did?"

"No. I asked her. And then it was time to cut the cake, and she went back over to Will."

"And that was it?"

"No. I told her . . . I told her everything was okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know! I don't know why I said it. I wanted to say, 'I love you too.' I wanted to say, 'Leave Will and run away with me' or 'Why the hell did you wait so long to tell me?' But I can't say that."

"Why not?"

Reid was shocked enough by Morgan's question that some of the adrenaline coursing through his system finally dissipated. "Morgan! I can't. Will's a good man. I love Henry and Michael; I don't want to break up their family."

Morgan spoke calmly, knowing that was what Reid needed at the moment. "Look, do you love JJ?"

"You know I do."

"Do you believe she meant it when she said she loves you?"

"I . . . ." Reid hesitated, then decided he'd shared too much truth tonight to stop now. "Yes, I do."

"Do you think you can go back to pretending like you don't?"

"I don't know. I can try."

Morgan knew Reid better than Reid knew himself. He knew the ultimate question Reid needed to ask himself. "But do you want to?"

There was another long moment of silence. Morgan let it stretch out; there was no way he was going to speak first. At long last, Reid whispered, "No."

"Then you're going to have to do something about it. Look, Spencer, if she's in love with you, then that family is already broken."

Reid knew Morgan was right, but there was one last truth he needed to speak. "I don't want Henry and Michael to feel about JJ the way I feel about my father," he admitted.

"Reid, this is an entirely different situation. And you know JJ would never drop out of her children's lives the way your father dropped out of yours."

Knowing his friend was right and knowing what to do about it were two different things. "So what should I do?"

"Look, Reid, I can't tell you what to do. You're going to have to decide that for yourself. But I will say this: Don't let this chance for a good life slip away because you were too afraid to say anything. In the end, JJ is going to have to decide for herself what she wants, but you and she both deserve for her to make that decision with all the information. Right?"

"I guess so."

"So what are you going to do?"

Reid took a deep breath. "I'm going to tell her the truth. I'm going to tell her I love her too."

"Go for it, pretty boy. You deserve to be happy."

Reid snorted derisively. "I wouldn't even know what that felt like."

Morgan wasn't about to let Reid's well-earned pessimism win this particular battle. "Then it's about time you found out. Tonight, get some sleep. Tomorrow, start living the life you should have had fifteen years ago."

"Thanks, Derek."

"Any time, pretty boy. I expect an invitation to the wedding. And this one I won't miss."

"**Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat." Theodore Roosevelt**


End file.
